


The Same Old Innocence

by carolion



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fingerfucking, First Time, M/M, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-23
Updated: 2011-08-23
Packaged: 2017-10-22 23:45:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/243901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolion/pseuds/carolion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Archie meets Cook while vacationing in L.A.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Same Old Innocence

Every time Claudia drifted over to a group of boys, her eyes going all big and fluttery, and her mouth pouting a little, David’s mom would tut and grab his father’s arm, pointing a finger.

“Look at that! She better not get any ideas,” Lupe said, concern etched into her voice, “Those boys only have _one_ thing on their minds. And it’s not a friendly game of Marco Polo!” It actually took David a while to connect the dots (which was a little embarrassing) but then he realized his mother was talking about _sex_ , and he glanced over at his older sister nervously. She was laughing and blocking a spray of water that one of the boys had sent her way, and now that he was looking for it, he could see the way their eyes lingered on her – on her chest, and her bare stomach, and how the came close to talk to her, looking at her lips instead of her eyes. David felt his stomach turn over.

Claudia would never _do_ anything, but it was definitely unsettling to think about, that these boys wanted to have _sex_ with her. He wanted to grab her and tell her to put on some clothes, but that was ridiculous, they were all in their bathing suits and everyone down at the hotel pool was dressed the same. He still wanted to protect her though, and felt a surge of panic that she would somehow get her heart broken while they were here on vacation. He wondered, a little suddenly, if boys were looking at _Jazzy_ that way too, and almost sat up to start scanning the area. But Jazzy had made friends with a few girls her age, and they were squealing and gossiping in one corner of the pool, nowhere near any boys. He relaxed, a little.

He’d never known a pool could be so _dangerous_.

It was only their third day in LA, and the hotel they were staying at was really _nice_ , like, David couldn’t even begin to imagine what his parents had paid for them to stay there, but they were all having a really good time. Even his brother was hanging out with the family, which he had started to do less and less recently. So, yeah, David was enjoying himself. But the place was also _packed_. There were all sorts of people here! His mother (who was a really social person; she seemed to make friends wherever she went) had already introduced them to people from Canada, New York, Boston, Washington, Nevada, Montana… And even some LA people who ‘needed to get away,’ even though they hadn’t _gone_ anywhere. It was a little overwhelming, all these people. David mostly tried to ignore them and enjoy himself, but now that he knew that boy were – were _preying_ on his sister, it was a little hard to _not_ pay attention to the people around him.

He found himself carefully analyzing every guy at the pool, from the fat, balding father (totally harmless, completely smitten with his tired looking wife), to the hotshot bodybuilder type (which, ew, by the way) to see if they were looking at _any_ of his sisters that way. Pretty soon he learned the type to look out for though. Teenagers and groups of young men seemed the most interested, and David found himself on high alert, ready to intervene wheneverto like, distract his sisters with a game of tag or something, if they started to drift too near. It seemed to work pretty well, and no one came near Claudia or Jazzy that day.

The next day, a new group of guys showed up. There were maybe four or five of them? David couldn’t really tell if they were all together or if they just made friends fast, because they were always laughing or goofing off with each other, and made conversation easily with their neighbors. They looked – well, they were exactly the _type_. Had to be, like, mid to late twenties? And tattooed. And attractive.

They played rough in the water with each other, wrestling and throwing those nerf footballs _way_ too hard, and using course language that made David wince and want to cover Amber’s ears. Then they’d crawl up on the pool chairs and lay out, drinking can after can of beer, and ordering drinks from the bar. David watched their little plastic cups pile up after a while, wondering how many they’d drink before having to like, puke or something!

It wasn’t until late in the afternoon (as David was just beginning to feel sun-tired and crispy) that he realized he’d been watching these guys _all day_. He jerked his head up a little in surprise, and his gaze (which had been focused on the scowly, light haired one with the _ton_ of piercings, oh gosh) met one of theirs. David blinked, unable to look away from the guy who had caught him staring. The guy grinned, also not looking away, and lifted a hand in greeting. David immediately flushed and grabbed a magazine at random to bury his nose in. Belatedly, he realized he’d accidentally picked up one of the girls’ _Vogue_ magazines.

He was pretty sure his entire body was blushing now.

David put the magazine down and walked over to the bar to maybe get some water, try to calm down. It was embarrassing, having been caught watching them. It was _rude_ of him, he knew that, and he felt weirdly ashamed. He ordered his water and pressed his face into his hands, feeling the glow of his flush on his palms.

“So,” a voice said near him, and David jerked upright to stare. It was the _guy!_ “Which one of us were you watching?” He sounded _amused_ , and was leaning up against the bar kind of fake-casually, still a little wet from the pool David noticed. His eyes snapped up from the guy’s chest to his face, where this weird little smile was playing on his lips.

“Um,” David said nervously, looking at his hands, “I’m sorry?”

“Don’t apologize,” the guy said immediately, and leaned a little closer, “but inquiring minds want to know.” There was a pause, and then, “I’m David.”

“What?” David looked up, confused.

“My name? It’s David. This is the part where you tell me _your_ name.” The smile had turned into an all out grin, and David felt a little woozy when he realized he thought it was _attractive_.

“David. I mean, my name is David too.” He hoped that would be enough of a deterrent to make him _go away_.

David’s, well, the _other_ David’s, eyebrows shot up. “No shit? Well, I guess you can call me Cook, then. It’s just my last name, and plenty of my friends call me that anyway.”

“Um, okay?” David was pretty positive he was _not_ Cook’s friend, but, whatever.

“So who were you staring at?” Cook really wouldn’t leave this alone, would he? And why the heck was his water taking so long?

“Um, all of you.” David ducked his head. “I just – gosh. Don’t like, think I’m creepy or weird or anything. I was just – I have this sister, okay? And like, guys keep _staring_ at her.”

Cook listened carefully, and then he sort of smiled and nodded. “Gotcha. You were just trying to figure out whether or not we were the big bad wolves.”

“Yeah, kind of, I guess?”

Cook patted his shoulder gently (David flinched away from the touch, automatically), and waved a hand to the bartend. “Well you don’t have to worry about us. All of my friends have girlfriends. We’re just down here on a ‘boys outing’.” He ordered something with alcohol, and David completely forgot to ask if he could get his water yet, please.

“What about you?” He asked, because he hadn’t missed that bit where all of Cook’s _friends_ had girlfriends. “Do I have to worry about _you?_ ”

The weird smile on Cook’s face was totally confusing. “No, man. You don’t have to worry about your sister around me.” There was a pause, and Cook gave him a long look from head to toe, slowly and with intent. “I’m much more interested in her brother.” Cook winked at him, lifted his drink in a salute, and then walked away, leaving David open-mouthed and speechless. His heart was pounding.

“Can I _please_ have a water?”

 

When David went to bed that night, his head was reeling. He’d never once thought that people might think – might be looking at _him_. It wasn’t – he wasn’t disgusted by the idea. In fact, it was kind of, um, exciting? Cook was like, really good looking. And even though David had never thought of guys that way, he’d never really thought of _girls_ that way either. He’d sort of thought about it, in the way he thought about getting married and having kids, but like – it was weird. Now, though…

He closed his eyes, and saw Cook. This was going to be a problem. I mean, he'd just met the guy, like, _that day_ , and he was just some - some older _creep_ (except Cook was so not creepy, not even a little a bit, and he wasn't old, just like, mature, and oh my gosh, David didn't want to think about it, didn't want to think about all the stuff Cook had done in the past, how much he knew, how _experienced_ he was...) and David just, he should so not be thinking about this. Cook was a _guy_ , and wasn't that wrong? It just - it didn't feel wrong. Not at all. David felt hot and squirmy on the inside, thinking about it, but it wasn't a bad feeling. It was the opposite of 'bad.'

He relived the confrontation from earlier, over and over, from how Cook caught him to staring to how the older man had sauntered up and, and _sprawled_ against the bar, his body all wet and shirtless and he totally knew what he was doing! _Flaunting_ his body like that, to _David_ of all people! And then when, when Cook had like, _hit on him_ , oh my gosh, what had he been thinking? It was like, and he was implying, and David realized he had an, um, _situation_.

His cheeks burning in shame and humiliated, David tried to ignore it, rolling onto his side at first, and then onto his belly, but that _really_ didn't help, because his hips twitched and jerked forward and down and David gasped, because, oh gosh, that felt _so_ good. Frustrated, he flopped over back onto his back and threw an arm over his eyes, trying to take deep, soothing breaths. But the thing was, he could still hear Cook's voice low in his ear, could still see his naughty grin, and could still feel the heat from his gaze as it raked over his body appraisingly. David felt hot and his insides burned and he wanted to _squirm_ , or maybe like, touch himself, and as soon as the idea occurred to him, he couldn't stop thinking about it.

David bit his lip, but let his hand rest gently on his stomach anyway. Goosebumps pimpled on his arms, just from that delicate touch, and he felt like every hair on his body stood up, desperate and needy. Oh, gosh, it was so embarrassing to be this, this _pathetic_. Letting out a choked whimper, David slid his hand under his t-shirt, shivering as he felt his own body jump and tense beneath his palm, pushing his shirt well up past his chest. David didn't do this very often, you know. He made a point not to, like, whatever, give in to temptation, because he should totally be stronger than this! (Even though when he was fifteen he felt like he was going to _die_ it happened so often, and he was freaked out and terrified but he couldn't stop, and he never felt satisfied, but it always felt _so_ good, and so shameful, but still so _good_.) Tonight though, tonight he had a face and a voice to fixate on, a body to image next to his own, and David groaned as his hand skirted his chest, setting his nerves on fire.

It took longer to unbutton his pants. He was shaking, and he was only using on hand, the other one still holding his shirt up. It was silly, maybe he should take it off, but it was comforting to have the fabric bunched up around his collarbones, like a security blanket. The cool air on his chest and stomach felt amazing though, and he shivered, fumbling with the buttons on his jeans.

He didn't bother taking his pants off, just undid the front enough so he could shove his hand inside and grip his erection, an involuntary sound escaping from him as he reveled in the heat and the pressure and the pleasure. It really _had_ been a long time, and, _oh_ , he'd almost forgotten what it was like, to curl his fist around the head, to stroke down with a firm grip and slide up, twisting his wrist a little to press his thumb against the underside.

"Oh," he gasped out sharply, then put a hand over his mouth, terrified that his parents or his siblings would hear him. Still, he could hear the sharp intake of breath he took, and sounds kept coming out, soft groans or moans that were muffled by his palm. David closed his eyes and imagined it was Cook's hand, long fingers wrapped around his - his _cock_ , and his stubble tickling David's jaw as Cook whispered dirty things to him. David's tightened his grip and jerked a little more frantically, his hips joining the party by thrusting up erratically into his fist. Pre-cum made the way slick, and, oh wow, the wetness made it better, way better, and he could go _faster_ , and he imagined Cook's weight pressing him down, or one leg thrown across his body, and his voice, rough and gravelly, and his tongue, and his mouth, and his eyes, and his smile, and his -

David shuddered as he came, his eyes snapping open and his mouth forming an 'o', a long, low, uninhibited, _pornographic_ sound keening from his throat into his hand.

"Cook," he breathed, and then felt stupid, his cheeks heating up immediately. This was - completely out of control, that's what this was. He could _not_ have a crush on David Cook, on some stranger that he'd met a pool at a hotel, dang it!

But as David stumbled to bathroom to clean up, and washed his hands carefully, he couldn't deny what he'd felt. He really did have a crush on this guy. Dang it.

 

The next morning David _really_ did not want to go down to the pool, but his parents had insisted he take the younger kids, and to get there early to get a good spot with an umbrella and maybe a table too. He groaned to himself, but dutifully grabbed a tote bag full of sunblock and pool tools, and went down with the rest of the kids. He was anxious, but it was still early, and besides, maybe Cook and his friends would like, stay in the hotel, or maybe go out somewhere else, and just stay away from the pool.

Of course, David had never been lucky in his life, because Cook was already _there_ , all his stuff sprawled across a couple chairs (reserving them), and he was dozing on one of the lounge chairs, a hat perched on his face to block the sun from his eyes. David steered his family as far from where Cook was laying, but had to concede to a place too close for his liking to accommodate the whole family and their needs. It was fine. He could totally deal with this. Just because he'd been, like, whatever, _flirted with_ wasn't the end of the world. It was embarrassing but girls at home kind of did the same thing and he just ignored them. He could ignore Cook.

Except, that was proving way more difficult than David had imagined. Cook only dozed for fifteen minutes before sitting up groggily, and David was horrified to find that he found the other man's fluffy, messy, sleep-ruffled hair _adorable_ and the way he blinked up into the sun, scowling, was also pretty endearing. It just - it was so wrong! _'This is a stranger,'_ he scolded himself, trying to take his mind off of things by slathering Amber with sunblock, and rubbing maybe a little too vigorously, if her 'Ow! Davey!' was anything to go by. _'He is not adorable. He is not good looking. He is a creep who hits on random guys at pool bars,'_ but even as he told himself these things, David found himself sneaking glances, trying to watch Cook through lowered lashes as the rest of the group trickled out from the hotel to join him.

He wasn't subtle enough, apparently, because when he slipped into the pool to cool off, Cook got in the water too, and when David wasn't paying attention, somehow managed to corner him.

"Hey!" Cook said, and oh, gosh, he was grinning and getting closer, and David tried to kind of scoot away, but Cook was _really_ close now, and there were people on either side, so he just kind of sighed and shrunk away.

"Um, hi." David looked away, still trying to ignore Cook, even though he could feel the man's eyes on him, and could still see the smirk on his face from the corner of his eye. It made his face burn, a little humiliated by the way was so clearly pushing him around. His jaw tightened slightly, and he met Cook's eyes boldly. The older man was clearly not expecting this, because his eyebrows shot up in surprise. Then he grinned, and David felt foolish again.

Not to mention all of the memories from last night came rushing back and, oh, this was _so_ not appropriate.

Cook must have noticed the sudden switch in his demeanor, because he reached out a put a hand on David's shoulder, his thumb sweeping across the boys collarbone, massaging a little as he gripped him. "You look tired," he said casually, but David could swear there was a hint of innuendo in his voice. There was certainly a lot of innuendo in his _hand_ , which wasn't massaging so much as it was _caressing_ now, creeping closer to his neck, Cook's long fingers playing with the hair at the base of his neck. David suppressed a shiver and jerked his body back a little, effectively dislodging Cook's hand.

"I had a lot on my mind," David answered honestly, though why he answered at _all_ was a mystery to him. Cook smiled widely and David bit his lip, regretting what he said already.

"I bet you did," Cook crowed, and sank down a little in the water so he was staring up at David, his eyes bright and happy. It was - it was really nice actually. David knew he was staring, but he felt totally helpless. Cook had one of those faces that drew you in, you know, with warm eyes and a friendly smile, and just, something about it made David want to lean in or something.

Which was ridiculous, oh my gosh.

Cook kept smiling and floated a little away, giving David some space - but David didn't bolt. He just stayed there, up to his waist in water, staring at Cook carefully. The man floated even further away, but David felt frozen. He shouldn't want Cook around, like, at all, but at the same time he _knew_ he didn't want Cook to leave.

"Wait," he said, finally, and sort of waded towards Cook, taking a deep breath and looking into his eyes. "Um, what kind of music do you like?"

 

His rather pathetic attempt at starting a conversation with the guy who had totally hit on him like, yesterday, proved to actually be a stroke a genius, because Cook lit up like the fourth of July and began talking a mile a minute. It turned out he and his friends were actually in a band and like, did actual gigs and had actual records, and it was everything David had ever wanted (only he wasn't so much into rock, though he was thoroughly impressed that Cook was like, a _rockstar_ oh my gosh!) out of his own musical career, which had sadly not taken off. They didn't run out of things to say the whole time they talked, even when the conversation drifted from music to other random things, like family and siblings and traveling and then, even onto their health.

When David had explained about Star Search, and his vocal chord, Cook had reached out and gently placed his fingers against David's soft throat, the pads of his fingertips pressing against his pulse point, as if Cook could heal David's voice with just a touch. David swallowed roughly, and Cook's fingers followed the motion, his hand dragging along David's skin, leaving a trail of heat that seared his nerves and made him flush all over. Cook noticed, and his eyes got sort of dark and intense and he moved a little closer. David didn't scoot back, but he tensed up - Cook only returned to the conversation though, and didn't push it.

David hadn't even realized they'd been talking all day until Cook frowned and touched a finger to David's nose, which made David cross his eyes and splutter in surprise.

"You're getting a sunburn," Cook explained, and then tugged David over to the side of the pool and motioned for him to get out. "Come on, I've got some block you can use."

"Oh, but- I mean, I have some back with my-" he glanced at his family, where his mother and father lay out comfortably, keeping an eye on the other kids and completely ignoring him. David sighed a little, and then climbed out of the pool. Cook got out after him and guided him to where David's friends were all seated. They barely looked at David, just grunted and waved, and one of them told Cook to 'grab him a beer as long as he was playing housewife.'

"Fuck you Tiemann," Cook said, but it sounded weirdly cheerful? And Cook got him the beer too, which was like the opposite of what he'd said, but, whatever. David just shuffled nervously and twisted his hands behind his back, feeling awkward and out of place.

"Alright David," and Cook paused, wrinkling his nose. "Man that's weird. You ever have a nickname?" Cook rummaged around one of the duffle bags, making vague noises of discontent until finally 'Aha!' and he revealed a tube of sunblock. David smiled weakly.

"Oh, um, I dunno, my last name is Archuleta?" David offered, then shrugged his shoulders a little.

Cook grinned at him, and popped the sunblock cap. "Okay 'Archuleta', that's not going to work either. Let me think." Then, without hesitating, Cook just leaned over and slathered sunblock on David's shoulders. He squeaked a little and jumped - it was cold! And, and Cook was _touching_ him! "Archuleta, Archu, Arch, hm, Arch might work? No, no, Archie, there we go!" And Cook was babbling, flashing that white smile at him, and David couldn't really thinking, not when his skin was so hot and cold at the same time, and while Cook's hands were on his shoulders, rubbing in this sunblock and on the back of his neck, smoothing down his hair. He gaped, a little, and then shivered.

Cook leaned forward and smoothed a thumb covered in sunblock over David's nose. "There you go," he chuckled, and leaned back. "Perfect." But Cook wasn't looking at his nose. He was looking at David's _lips_. Without thinking, David licked them nervously, and gasped when Cook's breath hitched.

"I'm um, um, thank you for the, but I think," he gestured wildly to where his family was sitting, "gonna get some lunch, I'll uh, talk to you later?" He knew he sounded a little crazy, but Cook was just nodding, looking pensive and withdrawn.

"Yeah man, go ahead."

David practically ran over to his family.

 

He didn't see Cook until the next day, and as soon as he laid eyes on him, David flushed from his head to toes. Just - last night he had refused to touch himself, telling himself that once in a week was more than enough, and that he'd pushed the boundaries by thinking of _Cook_ while doing it, but it hadn't really helped. In fact, his dreams had been plagued with Cook's face and body, more of the smoky sound of his voice, and apparently his subconscious was a lot more imaginative than his conscious brain because, um, _wow_ they'd done some incredible things in his dreams. Just thinking about it made him a little achy inside, and he felt himself drawing nearer to Cook without even meaning to.

Cook's face lit up when he saw David though, and he said "Archie!" all bright and cheerful, but it confused David for a second because, who was Archie? Until he realized that 'Archie' was _him_. That was going to take some getting used to. (Except, no, dang it! He didn't want to get used to it!) David smiled shyly in return, and the two fell into conversation.

There was something a little different today though, more like the first day. Cook was back to being Mr. Aggressive, staring at David intently and making a few blatant sexual innuendos. Only - only this time, David didn't feel quite a shocked. It was making him feel, like, _wanted_ , and oh, that was a good feeling.

"Arch," Cook said softly. His hand was curled up at the point where David's neck turned into his shoulder, and his fingers twitched, brushing up against the column of David's throat. He shivered involuntarily, and could feel Cook tense next to him. " _Archie_ ," Cook said, a little rougher this time, and then turned and swam towards the steps, snagging David's wrist along the way and dragging him too. "Go get your shoes," Cook told him briefly, and David didn't even think about disobeying, or even asking why, just darted over and grabbed his flip flops, shoving them onto his feet. His heart was beating rapidly.

"Where are we going?" David asked curiously, after Cook began to hustle him away from the pool. Cook gave him a heated look, one of those dark, appraising looks that made David feel like he was made of rubber.

"To my hotel room," Cook replied shortly, after finally tearing his gaze away, and David's stomach swooped excitedly. It didn't take them long to get there, and even though David tried to stutter out a 'Won't your friends be mad?' ("No," Cook had said shortly, and shoved him inside) they both ended up inside, away from the heat with both their hearts beating madly.

David clenched his hands into fists, trembling as he waited for what was next. Cook blew out a long breath, and stepped nearer, sliding his calloused hand up David's arm, to it's familiar resting place against his neck. Cook's knuckles rubbed along his throat gently, fondly, for a moment, and then he unfurled his hand and cupped David's face. "You gotta want this," Cook mumbled softly, then leaned forward and kissed David.

David gasped into it, his mouth opening underneath Cook's ministrations, and it took him a few moments to start to respond, his own hand curling around Cook's biceps and hanging on for dear life. Cook's mouth was hot and insistent against his own, and it stole his breath, his words, his ability to _think_. All he could do was kiss back, stroking his tongue into Cook's mouth and reveling in the soft little groans he coaxed from the older man.

"God," Cook said when they broke apart, "I just - I want you so much." He looked a little surprised. David smiled and leaned up for another kiss, because even though he was kind of, like, um, _freaking out_ on the inside, this was probably the most awesome thing to happen to him in his entire life.

"What do I-" David paused and licked his lips, looking into Cook's eyes seriously, "What do I _do?_ " Cook groaned and pressed his forehead against David's shoulder, whuffing out hot breaths.

"I'll take care of you," Cook breathed, and then pushed him into the bedroom.

 

David trembled. Cook was touching him with the most reverent hands, and every kiss was like a benediction on his skin, but this was so much, so fast, and he didn't even know this guy! David swallowed and closed his eyes, raising his hands above his head and turning his face to the side, and trying not to squeak as Cook nuzzled into his armpit.

"You're beautiful," Cook said, sounding like he _meant_ it, like seeing David sprawled out, naked and vulnerable on his bed was the most picturesque thing in the world. He leaned over and kissed David's throat, his stubble scratching the delicate skin, leaving red marks where he dragged his lips. David gasped and hitched his hips up, moaning as Cook's fist circled him loosely.

It was too loose, too loose and too slow and David wanted to _cry_ with how slow this was going. "Cook," he groaned, and thrust his hips up desperately, only to have Cook slow down even _more_. "Please!" He begged, balling his hands into fists. Cook kissed his navel gently and licked his hips with all the devotion a child would show an ice cream cone.

"Be patient," he murmured against David's skin, then latched onto a section and bit down, hard. It _hurt_ , and David squirmed and yelped, but Cook refused to let go, growling and holding David's hips down firmly. He licked and sucked the bite mark after letting go, until it was dark and red and round, a perfect mark just below his hipbone. David's heart sped up rapidly, and his eyes fluttered.

"Cook," he whimpered softly, and then jerked back when he felt cold fingers at, at his - "Cook!"

The older man just kissed his erection sweetly and licked a long stripe from base to head, which made David shiver and shake. "Relax Archie, I promise, you will like it." Then he leaned up to whisper in David's ear: "I'm going to fingerfuck you until you come." David couldn't help the soft sound that came from his throat, his whole body tense and shaking. Cook smirked; he could feel it against his skin. "Do you like that idea? Do you like the idea of my fingers inside you, stretching you open, a part of you, opening you up and nice and pretty, touching you there?" Cook's tongue traced the shell of his ear, and David was panting fiercely, squirming. "You've never done this before, have you?" The question was serious, and Cook's voice was gentle, but David still refused to look at him, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head.

The next word almost made David sob with need: "Good."

There was so much possession and satisfaction injected into that simple word, he barely noticed when Cook's fingers began to prod at his entrance, too busy reeling over how Cook's words had affected him. When the first long, agile finger slid in, David just stiffened and said 'oh!' in this small voice.

It was - it was - indescribable, weird and out of place, but, but it was getting better, not so intrusive and like, maybe, it even felt good? And then Cook pressed in the other finger, and that sort of hurt, like, um, ow, until, oh, oh, that was better, that was - _oh gosh, yes!_

"Liked that, hm?" Cook sounded disgustingly smug, but David couldn't do much but gasp and plead, and Cook's fingers crooked and twisted, and then they, he pushed them in faster and harder and David was _moaning_ , like, oh gosh, _really_ loudly, saying things like 'More, oh my gosh, please please, more,' and 'Yes, _Cook_ , yes there,' and it was _so_ terrifyingly good.

"You _love_ this," Cook said, sounding a little more dazed than smug, and pressed a third finger in, which sort of made David squirm uncomfortably for a minute, before he was back to, um, _hard_ , but it was so good, so so good. Cook's voice was a low growl that reverberated through his body. "Touch yourself Archie," the man rumbled, "come on, look at that, you're _leaking_ , I've barely touched you, c'mon Arch, jerk yourself off," and David couldn't _not_.

He wrapped his hand around his - his dick, and squeezed tight and hard and rough, just how he liked it, but he couldn't take his time, he was way too full up and teetering on the edge, and his voice was trembling, pitched low and keening.

"I'm, I'm -" he managed, but Cook just shushed him and kissed the bite mark he'd imprinted on David's skin. Then he was coming hard all over his own hand and stomach, his high pitched wail bursting from his mouth and sweeping through the room.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," David heard Cook say, then those fingers were being withdrawn and he opened his eyes groggily to see Cook kneeling above him, jerking off furiously, his fist yanking so hard on his erection that it looked painfully. Cook's body was bent almost in half, and he was panting, and shivering, and then he was coming in long, thick stripes all over David's chest and abdomen, joining the mess that David had already made on himself.

David's breath hitched as some landed on his throat, but he didn't dare move, not until Cook was heaving above him, milking out the last of it as he swore vividly, his eyes large and dark, staring down at David's body with something akin to awe.

"Jesus Christ," Cook said breathlessly, then leaned down at kissed David's throat, licking away the stripe of cum that had managed to get up there. "I haven't - that was _intense_ , Archie." David didn't do anything but nod, wrapping his arms around Cook and staying there, at least until the other man hauled up and insisted they take a shower.

The shower had, um, it had let to some frottage and a subsequent round two, but at least they were clean by the time they both passed out in the bed, worn out from their activities.

 

"Hey, Arch, wake up," David awoke to someone shaking him gently. He mumbled something and heard a low chuckle. "Yeah, well. Your family is going to get worried, you gotta get up man."

David jerked up after that, clutching the sheets high to his chest, even though that was like, ridiculous. Cook had seen him _naked_ had even, um, well. "Oh my gosh! What time is it?!" Cooks threw his hands up innocently.

"Easy there, it's a little after four. You have plenty of time. I tried to let you sleep, you were pretty wiped out," and Cook grinned, this naughty little smile that made David's stomach swoop and made him want to maybe, like, kiss Cook? So he did, leaning forward and sucking Cook's bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling cautiously and licking into his mouth. Cook groaned and gripped the back of his head, kissing the breath right out of him.

"No, no no, come on, you gotta get back." David nodded and threw the covers off of him, getting up and looking for his swimshorts because, um, whatever, what was the use of being self-conscious when Cook had seen him totally naked.

"Hey have you seen-" but he was cut off by Cook's body pressed against his, Cook's strong arms wrapping around him and holding him still. David didn't even breath, just grabbed Cook's wrist in a loose grip and held on. "Um," he said stupidly, sighing as Cook pressed gentle, brushing kisses against his neck.

"Your family can wait another half an hour, can't they?" Cook asked, maybe a little desperately. His hips were stuttering forward, his erection pressing against David backside and, oh, um, wow they hadn't - that would be - _awesome_ and -

"Yeah, yeah, oh my gosh, sure." And turned in Cook's arms, kissing him hungrily.

He didn't leave for another hour and forty five minutes, but it was worth it.


End file.
